


Temper Your Expectations

by plsnskanks (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plsnskanks
Summary: Edd has super powers and now a super cat and it all starts getting super complicated.Super.





	1. Chapter 1

He ran towards the edge of the building leaping off and out into clear open space. He seemed to hang there a moment as the night air caught him in her open arms and held him tightly for a moment before releasing him back into the rush of time and matter and slowly draining energy.

The lights around him blur and vanish as he drops below the crowding cover of roofs and into the dark veins of the city below. He lands on the street and the lose bits of asphalt shiver under his impact and then still. He rises up in the dark surroundings of the alleyway.

“Nice heroics out there, Tights,” a familiar voice calls. Light, airy, always with a teasing lilt when things were calm. Something about him always set him at ease with a smile on his face.

They don’t know each other’s names, all they have is their codes for each other. Set apart from the media nicknames that they had been given, no these ones were just between them. He liked that, for once having something that didn’t have to be hidden for safety and didn’t have to be paraded for glory. It was nice to have a little middle ground now and then.

“Could say the same for you Red, saw you knock out Purple last week when he was tearing downtown on a rampage.”

“Land a hit on Purple? I do that any day,” Red smiles. Tights, or Edd as his cat knows him, likes Red. He likes his mischievous smile, his incorrigible shit eating grin, his flair for explosions and fire and-

He just likes him. He is an alright sort of guy and those kinds run few and far between in hero types. He has a past, Edd can tell by his missing arm, replaced with a prosthetic one he apparently built himself. He can tell he has scars, he’s caught glimpses of on his neck and face, and the look he gets when things get grim in a battle. He knows him and Purple have a history and it isn’t good. But they are alright, they are the okay type of hero.

God knows Smoke and Mirrors were a prime example off the insufferable type. They were a blonde and ginger duo of narcissistic assholes, who seemed to be the only two people that could stand each other’s company enough to repeatedly do jobs together. 

When they weren’t busy posturing for the cameras, they spent a lot of time scraping the credit for the jobs Red and Tights and the rest of the crew had done the dirty work for.

There had to be about ten of them in all, they had the duo, the dark green one that Edd liked to call “Smash” on account of the state of the criminals when Smash was first on the scene. Red liked to call him “Angry Tights” and while Edd didn’t exactly love the comparison, he let it go. He too had a penchant for going a little overboard when clearing a job.

Anyways there was Blu who seemed to fade in and out of the hero scene and tended to show up more around unsolved murders and who frankly just gave Edd the willies. There was the Triad, a group of three girls who were the most efficient at getting through a job with minimal damage. They didn’t stick around to talk to media much so there was little to no beat on them.

Which was smart, it was how Edd had intended to keep things, but keeping things neat and concise in this line of work, especially working solo, made that exponentially harder. There was no one to cover his ass when he was clearly losing a bout and no one to distract unwanted cameras when he lingered on the job a little too long. 

Point was, their numbers were low and the line of work messy and risky, mostly because of turf and image disputes. Hell hath no fury like Smoke or Mirrors with a dint on their record due to another super’s interference.

So they had to work together to get along. Which usually was easy for Edd. It was easy until his cat went missing.

Edd wasn’t that worried. Ringo was an outdoor cat, she liked to explore and in the area they lived, that wasn’t usually much of a problem. Ringo was a smart girl and Edd bet she still had every one of her nine lives.

It was when it rained and Ringo still hadn’t returned that he got worried.

Something about the ground around them had led to an increased proclivity of supers. He wasn’t sure what or where but he knew that supers tended to pop up after storms. Most of the time their powers were temporary and no more than a blip on the news radar.

But Edd wasn’t really worried about that. He was worried about his cat being out in the rain, cold, wet and maybe injured or worse.

He spends maybe three hours walking around the streets with his flashlight, peering into garbage cans, sopping wet boxes, peering through fences until a growling dog comes up to meet him.

Nothing.

He goes home and turns on the tv. At about roughly the same time as the evening news intro starting, blaring its zealous trumpet theme, Edd’s burner phone gives out a jingle. Without even picking up he knows who it is.

“Tights,” Red says, imminently out of breath. “You’re going to want to get down here.”

“What?” Edd said, slowly turning back to eye the news. A pretty blonde lady and suave looking man are trading banter about the most recent news and Edd feels the instantaneous pang of irritation he felt anytime he saw someone related to the news. Edd mutes the tv as he focuses in on Red’s voice.

“You seen the news?”

“Channel five?” Edd said as he glanced at the small revolving logo at the bottom of the screen.

“That’s the one, they got their cameras here already, this isn’t going to be a good night.”  
The broadcast studio is gone as they switch over to their field reporter and Edd is given shaky footage from a rooftop of something bulky, looming, stalking through the streets. Edd squints at it, it looks almost strangely familiar….

“Is that purple? Did he mutate again?” 

“Isn’t Purple, lazy bastard’s at home and won’t come because it isn’t his night and not on his turf.”

Edd snorted, “Sounds like Purple.”

“Listen Tights, I think it’s a cat, or used to be,” Red’s voice fades into the background as the camera man on screen gets a rush of bravery and draws closer to the edge of the building, angling his camera down into the street below to get a better view.

Edd is greeted with the sight of his pet’s familiar markings, blown up to be several meters long.

“That’s Ringo,” Edd says agape. “Red that’s my Ringo, don’t hurt her.”

“What the fuck is a Ringo? Tights, what are you talking about?” Red’s confused voice asks helplessly as Edd tunes him out, already pulling together an ill-advised plan of action in his head. 

Edd is already closing the burner phone and scrambling up the stairs to yank his costume out from its hidey hole behind some loose bricks in his bathroom. 

It’s still raining when Edd gets into the city. He does his usual trick which is to find a dumpster that doesn’t smell atrocious, an admirable feat on its own, crawl in, shrug off his spare change of clothes and then take off.

He quickly locates the super-sized version of his cat and around him are a smattering of supers all doing their best to put his cat out of commission.

Smash barely sees him coming when he is slammed out of the air so hard the building he impacts in shudders. 

“Sorry,” Edd mutters under his breath as he quickly darts off before Smash can recover and finger him for the injury. He struck Smash first because if anyone were going to unreasonably escalate a situation, it was going to be him. Next, he notices the Triad and immediately skips over them.

Zero casualty record, when Purple was on a rampage they worked to sedate and quarantine him. While Ringo wasn’t exactly human, Edd trusted them to resolve things nonviolently as long as they had leeway.

Next? Smoke and Mirrors. Edd tries to do something similar to Mirrors as he did to Smash but Smoke tips him off quick enough that Edd is nearly skidding off the roof.

“Pretty bold move to try and take this one all for yourself,” Smoke says calmly as Mirrors straightens himself up and smooths his hair back into place, shooting a disdainful glare at Edd.

“I don’t want any trouble, I just-,” Smoke doesn’t apparently want to hear it because in no time at all he is face to face with Edd, Edd having barely seen him move. Edd glances away from Smoke for one second to see that Mirrors has rapidly duplicated himself and he has exactly no clue which one is the real one.

He is quickly going to lose this one on the ground and Edd takes off immediately at this realization. As he looks down to see the roof pulling away from him he sees Smoke flicker for a moment, catches a glimpse of him a few inches below his waist and feels a sharp pinch on his arm.

Edd looks down at his extremity to see a long, thin but deep line on his upper arm. He shakes it off, grabbing his cape and ripping a strip off of it to tie around his arm, ignoring the raw sting it gives in response.

The rest of the night quickly devolves into Edd and Smoke flickering around Ringo as Edd tries his best to deflect any attacks and disperses Mirror’s clones almost as quickly as the other can make them.

A couple of times he ducks into an alley to recoup energy, but he can quickly tell it is a losing battle. About the fourth time he does this someone is waiting there to meet him. He immediately knows it is one of the Triad but he has never been able to tell the blonde ones apart.

“You are pushing your own bodily limits,” She says, voice cool, calm and betraying no hint of emotion.

“Well aware of the fact, thanks,” Edd wheezes.

“Your friend is up on the roof about to engage. He was looking for you.”

“Red?” Edd fumbles out.

“I suspect he will start with explosives almost immediately, if you want to keep things relatively nonviolent, I suggest you handle him.”

Edd looks at her a long moment, “What’s your angle?”

“We aim to keep blood out of the streets,” Was the simple response.

“And so you’ll take her somewhere safe? Somewhere where they won’t hurt her?” Edd asks, hope making his tone sound overeager.

“Right now, we are focusing on clearing this section of the city of vulnerable targets. You won’t get any offense from us, but you will also find we will not stop the others from wrapping this situation up to your dissatisfaction.”

Over their head Edd hears the telltale whistle of one of Red’s distraction grenades. It smokes and flashes a lot, but is relatively harmless. Usually he uses them as a warning to civilians and supers either clear the area or be aware of projectiles.

Edd spares her one last look and he isn’t sure whether to thank her or not, so he just gives her a nod, an acknowledgement as he takes off and pelts towards Red.

Red finds his next projectile kicked off course by another, much more problematic one.

“What the hell Tights?” Red snapped in irritation as he saw his friend directly hovering in his line of fire. “Move so I can put this thing down and we can go home for tonight.”

“You can’t kill my cat,” Tights said, and Red noticed how heavily he was breathing and his eyes glanced at where his hand was pressing into the bicep of his other arm and he caught sight of small dribbles of red seeping through the space between his fingers. Red had a hunch this conversation was about to get very unreasonable very quickly. 

“Your cat is a giant mutant wrecking the city,” he said and he is trying to keep his tone level but the hysteria still manages to find it’s way into his words as he best decides how to go about this.

“You cannot shoot my cat, Red,” Tights says and he throws up a field that Red immediately knows is past his capabilities for the night. Tight’s looks worn, drawn way too thin from using his powers to deflect blows from the others off his god damn stupid mutant cat. 

“Tights are you serious? You are about done in from trying to save his furry ass all night.”

“If I was a giant mutant would you shoot me?” Red doesn’t like the fact that he instantly knows the answer.

“Tights that is barely comparable.”

“Well I wouldn’t shoot you, so we aren’t killing my cat,” With that, feeling his point made, Tights lets his field go down and lowers himself gingerly onto the roof.

“They’re gonna kill my cat, Red. Don’t let ‘em hurt Ringo,” Tights looks so broken and downhearted and Red has honestly never seen him like this. Usually when Tights took a hit it was an occasion for light ribbing and jokes and Tights himself enjoyed the event.

But here he was looking downcast and exhausted all over his stupid mutant and-

“Fine, y’know what? I owe you for all the times you saved my ass, and someone else owes me so, you know. Fine,” Tord picks out his cell and dials the one number he loathes more than any other.

“What,” Comes the clipped tone on the other end.

“You seen the news?” Red asks.

“Yeah? Seems like Tights has gone AWOL and the rest of you suck at cleaning this up. What do you want? It’s my night off.”

“Not when you owe me a favor it isn’t,” Red smiles and maybe it’s just his vindictive streak when it comes to Purple.

“I’m four drinks in.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t shift while buzzed, I’ve seen you.”

A pause. Some rustling. A groan. “Fine but we are square after this.”

“Wait, one thing, you can’t kill it.”

“It’s a she and her name is Ringo,” Tights pipes up in the background.

“You are on the roof with that idiot? Knock him out and take the shot,” Purple snaps, irritated.

“Nah, just listen, get Ringo out of the city and into the cave system or something, whatever her issue is gonna cool off by sundown. Or it should if this is like the others.”

“You are using your favor to make me go be mutant animal control?” Purple sighs. “Alright, whatever, you’re an idiot.”

“Love you too,” Red sighs and presses the end button and looks over to see his friend on the ground grimacing.

“Stop moping Tights, your cat’s going to be fine.”

“I’m not moping,” he said as he looked up at Red from his position on the ground. “I swear, I sat down and every muscle locked up and now I don’t think I could get up if I wanted to.”

“Are you saying I am going to have to carry your ass out of here before Purple comes to make a mess of things?”

“It’s the downside of my abilities okay? Usually I am in bed by the time this happens but my body is forcing it now,” Tights seems to wince as one of his legs involuntarily kicks out. “Because usually I don’t do this much in a night.”

“You’re helpless,” Red snorts, but he bends down to put the other man on his back. Tights grunts in his ear and Red mutters a quick “sorry”.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried about it, what makes you think you can push things so far for a stupid cat?” Red says as he starts to run, Edd’s body bouncing along on his back as he did so. He kept a firm grip but regardless he knew Tights wasn’t going to be the only one sore as hell tomorrow.

“She means a lot alright?” Tights says and internally Red groans. If this were Purple, it would be easy. Telling him no? Piece of cake. Tights? Not so much. Tights is the only one that gets wiggle room and boy if he doesn’t use it. 

“Hey, I think I’m getting some feeling back. Whew.”

Red gets them down quickly and safely. The streets are dead and dark and he uses that to his advantage. Eventually Red finds a cranny to tuck the two of them away in and he sets Tights down as he unzips his bag and pulls out a sheet that reveals itself to be a fairly standard cloak. Red undoes his mask, tucks it in the bag, pulls a had and puts it on, before rifling through his bag and throwing a spare set of clothes at Tights.

“Just, put those on so we can go,” Red says and turns his back. A moment later he turns to see Tights no longer in tights.

“Thanks,” Tights says graciously. Red wants to ignore the way it makes his stomach flutter so he grabs the clothes out of Tight’s hands and shoves them into his bag grumbling to himself.

“Hey, uh, so,” Tights starts.

“I’m figuring you don’t want to give away your living space to me, and I am always switching mine up, so let’s go to my place,” Red says.

“I was kind of wondering if maybe,” Tights said as they walked. “I could have your name.”

“You have my name and I have yours,” Red says but he knows what Tights is digging at and he can’t-

“Edd,” he blurts. Because of course he does, because Tights is impulsive, excitable, and reckless.

“God damn it,” Red snarls and Edd draws back looking at his friends tense posture in alarm. “Tights- Edd- whatever.” Red has to stop himself to pull in a shaky breath and remind himself this isn’t Tom there wasn’t any malice behind it.

The anger saps out of him as Red trudges through the street, shoulders heavy.

“Edd you are making this hard,” Red says. “It’s always been hard, but you are making it harder.”

“I asked for too much, it’s alright,” Edd says calmly. Red glances at him and sees nothing but his friend. Goofy, understanding, frustrating, but in the way that always made him kind of laugh even when he was also very pissed off.

“You give away too much and it is going to get you hurt or killed or worse, Tights,” Red said. “And I can’t save you from that, no matter how much I want to think I can. You need to look after yourself. When I know you can do that, you can have my name.”

Edd doesn’t say anything. When they reach a car that Tord pulls out the keys for and the lights flash in response, Edd stops. He rubs the back of his head.

“I can make it home alright from here, thanks.”

“Tights no.”

“Really, I got this,” He said holding up his hands. A flicker of green plays between them. “I got enough juice to get out of any trouble, and I wasn’t planning to fly.”

“Just sleep in my place, don’t be an idiot. You have a wound on your arm.”

Tights looks at it and grins, pulling up the bloody band to show Red a gaping cut he did not want to see, laughing obnoxiously as Red winces. His squeamishness when it came to injuries was something Tights liked to exploit on the regular.

“This? Tis but a flesh wound-,” Red shoves him midway through his banter, face cracking into a smile. He kicks at Red’s shoe playfully. “And besides.” All the playfulness saps out of Tights’ tone and face as Red looks up to meet his gaze, grin still half on his face.

“You’re right though, I put too much on the line, but so do you. Don’t let me drag you down Red. You wouldn’t give me your name tonight, but you gave me just about everything else.”

With that, Tights’ back is retreating and Red is pulling his brim down over his eyes as he opens his door and slinks into his car, starts the engine, and pulls away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ft. floaty ringo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorty interlude explaining more of Tord and Toms backstory
> 
> next chapter will be longer

“Alright out with it,” Tom cracks the silence with his voice and the sound of him popping open another can of beer. The two of them are sitting in the dark with the tv flickering on and off, spilling it’s blue light onto the floor and walls , the couch and it's inhabitants, again and again. In between flashes Tom catches sight of Tord’s drawn face.

He is as he usually is when he is relaxing at home. Armless on one side, patch over his empty socket, glass eye out in cleaning solution. Without his mask his scars are much more noticeable as the most unaesthetic grouping is around his eye socket and high cheek. He looks like a deflated version of his super self, laying there gazing listlessly at the buzzing screen in sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt that gradually got greyer over the wash cycles.

“What do you mean?” Tord says after a taking a moment to register Tom’s words and immediately Tom is giving an exasperated sigh in response. He hated when Tord got like this. Disconnected. Despondent. He didn’t know how to handle him, wasn’t good at being his moral support. He knew he needed things just not what he could supply. Not directly at least.

“I mean I haven’t seen you and Tights together on a broadcast since I can’t remember when. I mean you barely go out on jobs anymore. I mean yesterday you saw Mirror get pounded into the pavement on a live broadcast and you didn’t even crack a smile once. That’s what I mean.”

Tord doesn’t say anything.

“Look sit around being miserable all you want, but this is getting stupid,” Tom says standing up. 

“He gave me his name,” Tord said flatly. Tom turns around and looks at him a long moment.

“He’s an idiot with no self-preservation, how is this a surprise?”

“It’s not. It’s just… complicated.”

“Oh yeah, because it’s always been super simple before Tights, when it was just you, me, and your stupid compound. Oh wait-.”

“Tom don’t start this again.”

“No how about you get up, get out and give me some space. I can’t go out all day like you can, and my cabin fever gets ten times worse with you around.”

Tord again keeps quiet.

“Okay you know what? Give me the burner, call him over, let me talk some sense into him.”

“Wha- hell no, Tom!” Tord scrambles to his feet but Tom has already grabbed the cell from its place on their kitchen counter and when he turns around the phone is at his ear and there is a look on his face that flagrantly says “don’t test me”. And Tord doesn’t. Maybe if he still had his arm on but even with that Tom could put up a hell of a fight and he just doesn’t have it in him.

“He needs to get his dumb cat anyway, it’s shitbox smells and it hates me and we told him the Triad would need three weeks max for testing and guess what? It's been a month.”

“She would like you more if you just relaxed around her.”

“Relax, she nearly crushed- Hi is this Tights?” Tom shifts his tone immediately, taking on a slightly less sardonic tone as the line seemed to go through.

Tord looks at him curiously, straining to catch snippets of conversation but ever since the accident his hearing on one side had been notably weaker.

“Hey yeah, we have had your cat for a while now, testing is all good, figured we would wait until things cooled down a little to hand her back off. Red and I were wondering if you wanted to meet up, let’s say tomorrow night at the split between the old docks and the seaside market?”

Tom pauses as Tights apparently gives his assent and he looks over to Tord smugly.

“Alright, yeah thanks. Hmm?” Tom pauses. “No, she’s been a real peach,” he says through a forced smile. “Only chewed the shit out of my tail, no worries. Yeah you too. See you tomorrow.”

Tom ends the call and tosses the phone back on the counter before strolling back to his place on the couch.

“Well that’s settled.”

Tord grunts, looking at the phone a long moment before he comes back to sit down next to Tom.

“You don’t like Tights?”

“I don’t have an opinion on him, but I don’t tend to respect people with little to no self-preservation.”

“He isn’t that stupid, I mean how long has it been, a year, maybe two? He’s managed to keep his identity hidden and he’s still in one piece.”

“Scraping by, by the skin of your teeth, and functioning in the system efficiently are two entirely separate things,” Tom says holding up two fingers to Tord’s face. “Tights seems like an alright sort, devoid of anything else.”

“And relative to everything else?”

“He’s a liability, and you know that. Smash is going to have a hit on him after the shit he pulled,” Tom takes a long drink from his beer and then sets it down, turning to look at Tord seriously.

“And a liability to you is a liability to me. You were going to bring him back the night of, weren’t you?”

Tord doesn’t look at him. He shrugs but Tom can catch the telltale signs of guilt.

“I’m going to remind you exactly once that I am well aware you could live without me-.”

“Tom it’s not-,” Tord starts.

“But the reverse is not true and unless you can help me regulate this,” Tom’s skin starts to darken, the edges of his eyes start to blacken, the texture of his entire body starts to pebble as his teeth start to shift unnaturally in his mouth. Then Tom relaxes and the irregularities do as well.

“Someone else is going to pay for your mistakes even if you aren’t around to deal with the consequences.”

Tord shuts his eye as his brow pinches together and he leans back on the couch in a slump. Tom is sipping his drink again.

“You know before all this I never drank.”

“Uh?” Tord said as he looked up at the water stains in their ceiling.

“Nope, not a drop. Not after the household I grew up in,” Tom said with a bitter smile. “And now the only thing that keeps this at bay is alcohol. Ironic.”

Tord was about to respond when the two of them heard a soft “meow” coming from above.

“Ah damn, she’s doing it again, should I get the broom?” Tom said as he watched the cat slowly summersault through the air in lazy wide loops.

“Honestly? I think she likes it and does it on purpose. She’s probably fine.”

Tom snorts as he watches the small grey ball of cat bowl through the air in slow motion.

“Weird cat, but kind of cute. Guess I can see why you like her owner so much,” Tom says and through side glance Tord can see he is smiling and the tension drains out of the room at that.

“Look Tom,” Tord says rubbing the back of his head and shifting uneasily on the couch. “I am sorry.”

“Save it Red, I get it,” Tom says. “This isn’t your screwup alone, it’s just the only people to be held accountable are dead and it’s down to you. I know that isn’t fair, but that’s how it is. Any news from the Triad on progress with the serum?”

“Laurel says what they have now can stop you mid-shift and freeze you there. So it binds to the remaining inactive mutagens and keeps them from continuing the chain activation. Issue is she has no clue how stable that is and they haven’t found a way to bind to already active mutagens. So no permanent off switch for now. But she seems to think they are approaching the mark where stress testing is reasonable to risk.”

Tom has a pretty good poker face, but after all the time they have spent together, Tord can see it is a perceptible weight off him to be able to visualize an end to his situation. For all the lighthearted joking and ribbing about Tom’s shifts that went on, the real thing was terrifying, especially when provoked without Tom’s consent. 

Tord watched as he took another sip of his beer. Keeping alcohol in his system lowered the chances of an unwanted trigger. It wasn’t a good solution, but it gave them a higher stress threshold to work with. Tom had only shifted unprovoked once with alcohol in his system and that had been the time one of Tord’s demo flash bombs went off in their apartment by surprise. Tom was half blinded and enraged as anyone would be, the only difference being his body had a physical mutation in response.

He had at least been able to clear their apartment before the unstable phases of the shift started.

“You know,” Tom said as he drained the last of his can and tossed it over towards the already overflowing recycling bin by the wall where it clattered onto the pile of its brethren. “I never understood why an alright sort of guy like yourself was even involved in my program.”

“I never approved that serum for human testing. I said it needed months of work, maybe even years,” Tord said. He used to be able to drum up a real rage on this subject. Feel the cold fury of realizing they had taken his half-finished formula and set it out to live testing with little to no thought of the repercussions, the suffering it could and would generate. Guess they paid for it well enough in the end.

Now all he felt was tired. Tired and worried. Tom was doing alright with his shifts so far, but it was only a matter of time before his body started to handle spontaneous shifting less and less well. The stress was going to make his body deteriorate eventually, Tord just hoped that it wouldn’t get too severe before the Triad figured something out.

Slowly coming down from her time in the air, Ringo levitated herself in a small loaf onto Tord’s lap where she stayed in a purring bundle.

“How come she always comes to you?” Tom said as he eyed her warily as if he didn’t quite trust her not to blow up to the size of a house again.

Tord petted Ringo who only started to purr louder at the attention.

“Probably because I am not scary.”

“You’re down an arm and an eye and I am the scary one?” Tom said.

“You turned into a gremlin ten minutes ago to prove a point in an argument, how do you figure the answer isn’t ‘yes’?” Tord said as he paused mid-stroke to stare at Tom in mild amusement and disbelief.

“I didn’t know how else to make my point, you are thick as a brick,” Tom snapped, folding his arms in indignation.

“Never said I wasn’t, you are still scary though,” Tord grinned.

Tom folded his arms and muttered something under his breath.

“Cats can sense moods, I bet she senses your perpetual bad mood and stays away,” Tord teases as Tom’s eyes narrow.

“She’d probably want to hang out with me if you left me alone for more than an hour then, my mood would clear right up,” Tom says darkly. Tord tries to shove down his rising exasperation.

“I get it Tom, we will go out tomorrow and you’ll get your fresh air and after Tights we can walk around for a while.”

Tom seems pleased with that and things settle down between them, Ringo still happily purring away on Tord’s lap.

**Author's Note:**

> mood music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_MQeiUvcro
> 
> This is continuing, I kinda didnt expect to but eh the more i write the more i feel there is to talk about in this one. Is going to eventually escalate rating to E but tbh, i will try to push that to the end.


End file.
